


I love you, you love me

by Agent_Carter_1920



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 13:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21734011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Carter_1920/pseuds/Agent_Carter_1920
Summary: Two short stories about Steve and the Reader. Enjoy!
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Kudos: 14





	1. Damsel In Distress

**Author's Note:**

> Steve is the Reader's knight in shining armour.

I was texting when I first became aware of the shouting. I looked up to see a car swerving across the street, wheels struggling to find a grip on the icy surface of the road. It was heading straight for me, and I froze. My brain screamed at me to run, but my body seemed incapable of moving. The car was getting closer, and I could see the driver, his face panicked and afraid, as the car continued its inevitable path towards me. Suddenly, there was a pair of strong arms around me, pushing me out of the way and onto the snowy pavement. The stranger covered my body with his as the car hit a traffic light and flipped over, almost certainly killing whoever had been inside. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding, and I noticed that I was shaking - the cold, the fear, or a combination of both. I looked up at my saviour, lying on top of me where we had fallen in the snow. He had startling blue eyes, almost silver in the early morning light. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I looked at the buildings around me, and my gaze landed on the skyscraper on the other side of the road. The Avengers Tower. Which meant that the golden-haired man who had saved my life was none other than Captain America. He must have run out of the Tower when he heard the shouting. "Ma'am, are you alright? Are you hurt?" he asked, crouching down beside me. I shook my head, but he didn't seem convinced. “Come on, let’s get go inside and get you warmed up. You’ve had a nasty shock.” he said, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it and followed him across the street to the Tower.

We went up in a lift to one of the top floors, and the doors opened onto a small lounge area, with large windows that looked out over the city. A red-haired woman was sat on one of the sofas, playing chess with a tall dark-haired man. They were conversing quietly in a language I didn’t understand – Russian, maybe? The dark-haired man looked around as you stepped out of the lift and grinned at Steve. “Who’s this? Have you finally got yourself a girl, Stevie?” Steve gave his friend a look, and the red-haired woman added something in Russian that made Steve blush. “This is…wait, what is your name, ma’am?”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Well, this is Y/N, and she just almost got run over outside, so I brought her in to help her recover.” The red-haired woman nodded. “I’m Natasha. And this is Bucky.” I smiled, and a sudden pain shot through my skull, making me wince. “Y/N? Are you alright?” I started to nod, but the room began to blur and spin in dizzy circles around me. I must have staggered, because the next thing I knew, there was a pair of strong arms around me, picking me up and placing me gently on the sofa. “I think she might have concussion, Stevie. What happened, exactly?” I vaguely heard Steve telling them about what had happened, and how he had pushed me out of the way. “Well, she’s not going anywhere for a while. Not in that state anyway.” I heard Natasha say. I opened my eyes, and tried to sit up, but a firm pair of hands pushed me down again. “Y/N. You have to stay lying down for a bit. Don’t try and move – it will make your concussion worse.” Ordered Steve, with a stern look. I nodded and lay back on the sofa. “Looks like you might be here for a while, doll, the snow’s really coming down now. Bucky said. I smiled weakly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t last long. Snow here never does.” Natasha reassured me, glancing out of the window.

“So, where are you from, Y/N?” asked Steve, taking my cold hands and holding them in his warm ones.

“Well, I was born and raised in England, but I moved to the U.S after I came to college here.” I explained. “I just fell in love with New York and decided that I wanted to live here. I’m a teacher at an elementary school in Brooklyn.”

“Really? Me and Buck were born and raised in New York – but you probably knew that already”

“No, I didn’t actually – which part?”

“All of me except my left arm – she’s Russian.” Bucky joked, and I giggled like a 16-year-old schoolgirl.

“We’re from Brooklyn” Steve told me, grinning.

“Really? That’s so cool! It’s really pretty down by the river there, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been back there since…” Bucky fell silent, and looked down at his feet

“Since you returned” I said, smiling gently at him. He nodded. “I’ll have to take you and Steve sometime. You know, as a thank you for saving my life” I grinned.

“Really? That would be great, doll. I’d love that”

“Yeah. It’d be nice to see it again. And you.” I blushed, and Steve smiled at me. I shyly smiled back, and wondered if, at last, I had found my place.


	2. I'll Hold You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets hurt in the field.

“Steve!” I cried, grabbing his arm. “It hurts” Tears ran down my face, mixing with the rain. Steve’s hands were pressed against my side, trying to quench the flow of blood from the bullet wound. I had jumped in front of Steve before the terrorist fired – he wasn’t looking at the one who had the gun. It was just instinct – a gut reaction. The rest of them only had knives, so the gun had been an unexpected and rather unpleasant development. I had simply meant to knock Steve aside, so that the bullet would miss, but I overestimated my own strength. Steve is about half a foot taller than me, and I’m not exactly built like a super soldier. As a result, my plan only sort of worked – Steve was fine – but I didn’t manage to move out of the way quickly enough. Fortunately, Bucky had turned up and dealt with the terrorists, and now you were sitting outside the concrete bunker, watching my blood cover Steve’s hands. I could see it trickling between his fingers, staining his skin a red so dark it was almost black. Bucky was standing in front of me and Steve, gun raised, guarding us. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t you give up on me. Don’t give up, Y/N.” Steve said, pressing his forehead to mine. It was a circle of warm heat in the cold numbness spreading through me. “Stevie, Tony and the others are on their way – ETA in 10 minutes.” said Bucky, glancing back at me, his face filled with concern. “C’mon Y/N. You can do this. The plane will be here soon.”  
“I…I can’t do it, Stevie. I can’t” I gasped.  
“You can, Y/N.” he said fiercely. Teardrops clung to the tips of his eyelashes. “You can do anything. You’re stronger than you realise. I believe in you, sweetheart.”  
“I’m so sorry.” I whispered.  
“Why? It wasn’t your fault. You saved my life, Y/N. And I am not going to allow you to lose yours. Not today, not ever.”  
“We…we all die…in the end.”  
“No! You’re too young. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Keep fighting, Y/N, please. For me?” I nodded, and tried to push myself up against the wall, but the strength had gone from my limbs. “We never even…” I said. Thinking of all the missed opportunities, the almost. We had never even kissed, never said that you loved each other, and now I was going to die. “We will. I love you, Y/N.”  
“I love you too. Oh, Stevie!”  
“Remember, doll. I’m with you till the end of the line.” I heard the plane overhead and summoned up my remaining strength. “Till the end of the line.” Steve leant over and kissed me softly on the forehead. He picked me up, bridal style, and I clung on tightly, not wanting to lose him. He jogged towards the plane, Bucky by his side. I could see the light spilling out of the open door, and Tony’s silhouette outlined against it. “Till the end of the line.” I repeated. Steve smiled, and began to run.


End file.
